


Zuzu's Crackhouse

by SilhouetteofScribe



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Humor, The weirdest crack fic anyone will ever write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilhouetteofScribe/pseuds/SilhouetteofScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And now the story of two fire nation siblings who lost everything and had no choice but to sublet their palace in order to make ends meet. It’s Zuzu’s Crackhouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Room for Rent

_And now the story of two fire nation siblings who lost everything and had no choice but to sublet their palace in order to make ends meet. It’s Zuzu’s Crackhouse._

***

_This is Zuko the Fire Prince. His father has just left him a kingdom 15 billion crowns in debt, a dismal war campaign, the worst approval ratings in history and no chance of success. He’s upset right now because his sister has once again ruined his morning._

Zuko reached into the pantry, then when his hand filled with only empty air, he brushed the wood further, stretching as far as he could. No matter where he grabbed, his touch found nothing. He frowned and retracted his arm. A moment of silence to contemplate, then he crammed his head into the cupboard. He scraped at the wood with his nails until he pricked himself with a splinter. Zuko backed out of the pantry and thrashed his bleeding finger in the air. “Azula!” he shouted. “Azula! Where’s my oatmeal?!”

Azula floated in as if riding a gust of warm air. Her robe billowed up around her as she danced into the room. Her makeup was perfectly composed and her hair was styled meticulously. The extremes of her bangs hung down in glistening daggers of raven locks. As she swayed through the doorway on an outstretched hand, they rocked in the air and rebounded from her dimples. Azula gave Zuko a gigantic smile, like the cat that ate the Chubby Chocobo.

_This is Princess Azula. She’s Zuko’s little sister and was their father’s favorite. Azula’s strengths are in firebending, where she received the top marks of any of her master’s proteges. Other notable competitions Azula has taken first place in include martial arts (where she broke 164 bones of her peers), archery (where she felled the last dragon with a single shot), volleyball (where she destroyed 13 regulation balls), fencing (where she melted her swords 6 times, business courses (where she monopolized three trades), and a model UN (where she also broke 164 bones of her peers)._

Azula stretched and sipped her coffee, only making the slightest of a grimace as the bitter beverage mixed in to the aftertaste of a maple cinnamon oatmeal. “Relax, Zuzu,” she purred, tightening her robe. “I’m sure you just misplaced it. Look harder.”

Zuko slammed the cabinet door as slowly and gently as he could manage. He took a moment to keep himself reigned in. His fingers tensed together and he fought the urge to burn the kitchen to ashes. What was it that Uncle Iroh had been saying about control? “Azula...you can’t eat your own food? I thought we talked about this.” Zuko tried to smile. But the vein in his brow bulged, the one just inside of his disfiguring burn mark. “I don’t touch your stuff, you don’t touch mine. What am I always saying is the most important thing?”

Azula arched her eyebrow at Zuko over her coffee mug.

Yesterday Zuko had caught a kid who had spit on a poster of the royal family. “This isn’t a joke, little man,” he had growled. “You had better listen when I tell you this the first time, and remember it well! There is nothing important than honor!”

That same day he had given a speech to the graduates of the Flameo Academy. “What is honor?” he began the address. “Why, it’s only the most important thing in our lives. Why, when I was a young lad...”

Azula recalled another incident when he was trying to impress a young earth kingdom girl. “Honor?” he laughed. “Don’t get me started on honor!”

“HONOR!” he was yelling even before then, slamming a hammer down on a particularly bothersome roach peeking up from the unfinished pool deck, weaving from between the planks and nails. “HONOR HONOR HONOR HONOR HONOR HONOR!” Azula remembered how his tongue had waggled as he chased it through the afternoon.

Azula finished her long sip of the Air Temple Roast. “Honor?” she guessed.

“Honor!” Zuko agreed. “My things are mine,” he said gesturing at the empty pantry. “Your things...” he pointed to the stacks of organic foods and produce neatly stacked to the ceiling, “are yours. You have to honor the boundar -”

Azula filed her nails and gave one a puff. “Oh don’t give me that, Zuzu. You know I respect you.”

Zuko gnashed his teeth together. He could feel steam billowing up from his jaw. 

_Zuko had meant to start the morning differently. His financial situation had never been tighter and things would have to change if he and his sister were going to keep the palace._

“He what?” Zuko blurted out. He couldn’t believe his ears, but the jolly man had only laughed and kept packing his suitcase. “Uncle, you can’t be serious! How can father abandon us with nothing?”

Iroh only laughed harder and threw his shoulder against the bulging case of clothes and dirty magazines. “He seemed to have an easy time of it. I recall it being done over mojitos and a big cigar!” Iroh finally managed the clasp of the suitcase and wiped his brow. “You and your sister are on your own now! It’s time for you to be the man of the house!” Iroh popped the suitcase open and grabbed a gargantuan flask of cologne. He unscrewed the top.

“The man of the house?” Zuko reiterated for emphasis. The house included himself and his manic sister, her insane and clingy knife wielding friend, the uncontrollable circus freak, their flighty mother who often pretended to have switched bodies with the help of a spirit whenever her kids needed her help, and Jong Jong, the charlatan who had once claimed to be Zuko’s firebending instructor but had only outed himself as a failed magician with a seemingly endless supply of doves in various stages of life and decay. “No one in this house is going to listen to me. They’re all wild and spoiled, and not to mention annoying as a fire ferret on its third season.” Zuko watched as his Uncle tossed a gout of cologne into the air and caught it between his fingers. “Can’t you convince father to come back - maybe try to get the nation back up and running?”

Iroh smeared the cologne over his face and neck until he was glistening. “I don’t think that will happen, nephew,” Iroh said in his sagely dulcet rumble. “Your father won’t be coming back into the nation any time soon.”

_It was then that Iroh told Zuko the words that told him exactly how desperate the situation really was._

“There may be a slight chance...” Iroh whispered. “That your father may have committed some light...genocide.”

_So why is Zuko being so nice to his sister?_

“Why am I being so nice to you?” Zuko growled at Azula, his knuckles gouging into the soft wood of the pantry. “I could probably save this palace easier without you and your weirdass friends hanging around all the time.”

“Glooooooomp!” came the voice, just a second before Zuko felt arms throw around him with the force of a 50 pound acrobat flying at mach 2. Zuko went slack with disdain as Ty Lee climbed up on his back and rested her chin on his shoulder. “Glompglomp!”

Azula smiled at her friend and continued brushing her hair. “Come now, Zuzu,” Azula teased. “You could never hope to attract a renter here without me. Why, with Ty Lee and I here, we can hook someone who will solve all of our financial troubles. What does rent cost these days anyway? 20 coppers?”

Zuko counted back slowly from ten, trying to remember the most constructive advice he had ever got from his monk friend, but could only recall advice on penguin sledding aerodynamics. Bits of Jong Jong's training on how to get away with lighting your little sister on fire were floating back far more easily.

“Zuko.” Her voice was passionless and direct. Like a cold freight train fallen from its rails that wouldn’t leave him alone. Zuko looked up from the force of Ty Lee’s elbows to glance at Mei. Her eyes were looking almost at him this time, but may have been gazing a thousand miles further behind him. “Zuko. Marry me.”

“Get out!” Zuko demanded. “We’re going to have renters here any minute! I haven’t finished getting ready and there’s a lot to do!”

“It’s a busy morning,” Azula agreed. “Oatmeal?” she offered the guests.

_That was when the fire alarm went off._

***

Katara stepped through the Fire Nation alleyways. She pushed a loop of hair from her face and let it fall back into place at her temples. They were lost. Behind her, Sokka scratched the stubble on his chin and hesitated. Then with a dawning grin, he flipped the map over in his hands. Katara hit her forehead hard enough to create a distant earthquake.

_This is Katara. She’s from the Southern Water Tribe. This is Sokka, Katara’s brother. They’re in town after a long campaign against the Fire Lord with their monk friend, who is currently on an undoubtedly heroic crusade for peace and humankind’s betterment._

Far, far away on Kangaroo Island, the young Avatar adjusted the tanning reflector around his neck and craned his neck higher to ensure he was getting even results. He snapped his fingers once, then twice more louder to make sure he could be heard over the sound of the beach. Immediately the girl with strange horizontal pigtails and a gap in her teeth rushed up with a fresh glass of lemonade.

Aang took the cold drink in his hands and waved his attendant away. The soothing cry of seagulls and the gentle rush of the tides continued on as it had throughout his vacation. This was the life.

_When the tsunami hit from nowhere, Aang had no time to react._

“Damn it, Sokka!” Katara growled. “How can you have gotten us so lost?” She ripped the map from Sokka’s hands.

Sokka protested. “I know where we are!” he insisted. “I’ve just got turned around, that’s all! My instincts never fail me!” He crossed his arms.

Though just last week, after coming to a dead end in a cave of glowing crystals, Sokka had looked up from a similar map with confusion. “I’ve made a huge mistake.”

And before then, lost in Ba Sing Se, Sokka had walked into an underground government facility. “I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Then only two hours ago, Sokka had found himself in a city of advanced technology, with a towering statue to the Avatar at its far horizon. “I’ve made a huge mistake.”

_Katara had trusted in her brother against her judgement. In fact, letting him lead the way had been a favor to Gran Gran, a promise Katara was beginning to think had only been made for their senile caretaker’s amusement._

Miles and miles away, Gran Gran chuckled to herself. She imagined how bad Sokka had been screwing things up. For a second she laughed so hard she thought her heart would give out. But that only made her laugh harder.

Katara looked up from the map. “We’ve been heading the wrong way this whole time! You’ve cost us at least an hour of wasted time! My god Sokka, do you have a brain under all of that or did you just put all of your effort into growing those gargantuan ears of yours with no thoughts on thinking?”

Sokka pouted, but didn’t say anything. He knew not to push Katara when she was in one of her moods.

_Sokka knew not to push Katara when she was in one of her moods. Just look at this montage of people who learned that lesson too late._

Jet caught the block of ice on the temple and bowled back in midair, one of his teeth spinning off into oblivion as he fell back some eighty feet. Master Pakku held his breath as the torrents of water crashed down on him, worrying that he’d never take in another gasp of oxygen again in his life. Hama ran from a gigantic snowball of rage and angry fury.

“Maybe I should let you lead and shut up,” Sokka suggested.

_Good call, Sokka._

***

“They’re late,” Zuko growled as he paced at the door.

Azula lay on the table with her arms folded under her head. She blew a bubble of resin and watched it expand larger and larger. Her eyes flicked to Zuko. He kept pacing, nearly charring the floor under his feet.

“What if they don’t come? Maybe they’ve changed their mind about staying here,” Zuko fretted. “I knew we should have given the room to the girl in the black robe and her alien friend.”

Azula blew the bubble even bigger. It was getting impressive. She watched it go bigger. Azula waved her hand.

“Or maybe that detective boy and his sister, the one with all the sweaters? I don’t know if they have the money to cover expenses though...” Zuko considered the options.

_If nothing else, he can always call them in for another chapter._

Azula flailed her arm. The bubble was getting weaker. If Zuko didn’t look now it was going to pop. She thrashed her arms wildly. She screamed with her mouth closed. “ZUZU!” she moaned. “LOOK.”

Zuko mumbled on, brainstorming follow up episodes. He finally realized his sister was trying to get his attention and turned. “Did you say something Azula?” But Azula wasn’t doing anything interesting, just pulling mint flavored resin from her hair and face. “Stop screwing around, this is really important. We could lose the house!”

Azula held a clump of her hair up between her fingers, welded into one gross lock by gum. She glowered at Zuko.

_Maybe it was because Zuko scolded her that did it. Maybe it was because Azula loved her hair and would kill anyone who touched it. Maybe it was because her mother had thought she was a monster. But whatever reason she had for it..._

Azula dove through the air and pounced on Zuko’s neck, claws first.

***

“Okay, Sokka,” Katara warned just before they took the stairs up. “Zuko and Azula are refined and honorable, remember that!”

“Right. Remember that Zuko loves honor,” Sokka deadpanned. “I might manage to do that soooomehow.”

“Don’t make light of this, Sokka!” Katara crossed her arms and stopped just before the door. “You don’t know Zuko like I do! He’s not some humorless weirdo! There’s been plenty of times when he’s been fun and carefree! Spontaneous even!”

_[Footage not found.]_

“They’re not going to appreciate crude jokes, made up songs about boomerangs, talking about your poop or - you know what, just don’t talk to them at all while we’re living here. I don’t think I can trust you not to screw this up.”

“Oh for Konietzkoing out loud, Katara!” Sokka whined. “I’m not going to embarass you!”

Katara thrust her finger in Sokka’s face. “NO!” she threatened. “Azula’s a princess. We’re going to be on our best behavior. Don’t step one toe out of line!”

“What if Zuko’s crude? Can I be vulgar if he does something first?”

Katara rolled her eyes high enough to break the animation cell’s top boundary. “Sure,” she agreed in a huff. “I’ll tell you what, if I open this door and Zuko and his sister are having some primal Earth Kingdom rules wrestling match with a roped off ring and - and and and - and fucking folding chairs!” She calmed down, tried to recover from the insane outburst. Then Katara continued. “Sure. If that’s happening, you can run around without pants on for all I care!”

Sokka frowned. “Whatever. No need to get sarcastic with me.” He sneered and walked to the door.

Zuko fell through the double doors, bleeding from the nose like Sam Raimi directed his nostrils. He flung them open as he fell back and then rolled down the stairs, rolling right between Katara and Sokka.

Azula stood on the wrestling rope, her left foot high on the topmost rung. She hurled the bloody metal folding chair onto the floor and blew a bubble of mint resin. Her arms in the air, her bubble some three inches in diameter, she looked wild. Azula shouted something with her mouth full of resin, something that sounded like it could have been, “LOOK AT MY FUCKING BUBBLE YOU SACK OF BALLS.”

Katara and Sokka stared. They couldn’t take it in. It didn’t make any sense. In no logical canon universe did this follow the rules of Avatar or its characters. It was pure anarchy. The worst crack fic they had ever taken part in.

Sokka’s eyes went wide. He ripped his pants off and stood proudly in his platypusmadillo underwear. “HOME!” he boomed proudly. “I’M HOME!”

_On the next Crackhouse..._

_Katara and Zuko discover they’re more compatible than they first thought._

“I never told you this,” Zuko admitted carefully. “But I’ve always had a bit of a thing for Water Tribe girls...”

Katara blushed. “Well I never told you this,” she countered, “But I always wanted to freeze someone solid and then ride their cock until I cum six times.”

“Okay. One of those could happen. I vote mine. But let’s not rule anything out.”

_Iroh takes a long overdue vacation._

He pulled his sunglasses down and looked around. In the fighting pit, people were scurrying to control a juvenile black dragon on a rampage. It belched out a gout of fire on the people trying to capture it, then hissed at a beautiful golden haired woman. Iroh unbuttoned his hawaiian shirt and grinned.

“HOME!” Iroh announced. “I’M HOME!”

_And Momo and Appa finally surrender to their urges._

Appa lays on Momo, purring seductively. Momo claws to get free, gasping for air.


	2. No News is Zunews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara learn to get along with their new tenants.

_This is Zuko._

"Haha," Zuko forced a laugh, stepping back in the hallway as the bathroom door opened. He rubbed the back of his head and turned his gaze away. "I didn't know you were in there or showering or anything."

_He's recently discovered a hole in the water filter closet that lets him look into the shower._

Zuko took another step back from Katara, ignoring the towel around her waist. "Do you hear my sister? I think she needs a hand with breakfast." Zuko glanced at Katara's chest for only a moment. "I should help her."

 

_This is Katara. She moved into Zuko's palace two days ago._

Katara stared at Zuko, waiting for him to leave. She gripped the towel tighter. When he glanced at her breasts, she made a face. He was being so obvious...and hadn't looked away! He kept his eyes on the edge of the towel, ogling without any shame. She gaped. He was unbelievable! Now he stood on his tiptoes. "Shud help h...." he mumbled.

_She already knows that Zuko's been peeping in on her in the shower._

Katara washed herself, scrubbing the soap over her chest and neck. Then she froze.

"Oh yeah," the voice said.

Katara's eyes searched the bathroom.

"No," the voice said. "Don't stop. Just keep touching yourself."

Katara turned in the shower. She saw the hole in the wall, barely noticeable save for the voice on the other side.

"That's right, you're a dirty little peasant."

Katara held her hands over her breasts.

 

_Zuko's mostly interested in Katara because he hasn't seen anyone who isn't his sister or his sister's insane friends in years._

Katara held her hands over her breasts. "Zuko!" she said. "Zuko!"

"Hmm?" Zuko asked, finally looking away from her chest. "What?"

"Your sister?"

Zuko snapped his fingers. "Right!" he said. He stepped away.

Katara watched him go. Then waited. He was back a second later.

"Oh, hahaha," he laughed again. "I thought you were showering." He pointed back downstairs. "My sister needs me."

He stepped away slowly. Katara watched him step around the hall corner, peek back, and then depart entirely. "That's it, I'm waterbending away the dirt from now on."

 

_And now the story of two fire nation siblings who lost everything and had no choice but to sublet their palace in order to make ends meet. It’s Zuzu’s Crackhouse._

 

"I'm telling you," Sokka whined. "They break the fourth wall so many times - OH SHIT"

Azula threw her arms around Sokka's neck and kissed him. They made out a while longer, tumbling on the bed.

_Azula had snuck into Sokka's room at her first opportunity. After a brief negotiation..._

Yesterday, Sokka had hung from the dungeon wall, chained in placed and bleeding from shallow cuts from being whipped. Azula licked the blood from his chest, smearing his sweat over her leather bodysuit.

"I'm going to guess I don't have any choice in this matter," Sokka posited, "Do I?"

_She had won her first boyfriend._

They kissed on the bed some more, until Sokka broke away. "We should probably stop, it's getting later in the day." He glanced at the door. "I don't want your brother finding out about us."

Azula rolled her eyes. "Please," she said, her voice more condescending than a fusion of Tom Cruise and Jeff Goldblum explaining scientology to a baby, "he's so busy trying to peek on your sister through the hole I put in the shower to notice if I burn the house down.

"Still," the voice came as the woman stepped in from nowhere, "you should be more careful."

Azula screamed and fell off the bed.

_This is Ursa._

Ursa watched her daughter fall from the bed and drag the sheets with her, then leaned in for a better look at Sokka's boxers.

_She's not like other moms._

 

"Hey, just checking on everything." Ursa said, materializing from the shadows to appear in Zuko's room as she screamed and tried to hide the nude polaroid Mei had snuck under his door. He threw the blanket over his lap, screaming. "Need a hand?"

_She's hip, friendly and too creepy for her kids._

"Mom! Get out!"

Ursa shot another glance at Zuko's crotch before demolecularizing into a mist and vanishing.

 

_She's there when her kids need her._

Ursa dropped down from the ceiling, scaring the shit out of Chan and making Azula scream in frustration as her mom hurled a shower of condoms down on the couple. "Have fun! Be safe!"

"Mom! Get out!"

 

_Ursa prides herself on supporting her kids on anything they need._

Zuko stood in the center of the palace, shouting into the hallways. "Mom! We're going to lose the house!"

When she didn't appear, he tried again. "I need your help! We're broke, dad's gone and Azula's off her meds again!"

Nothing. "Mom!!!"

Zuko rolled his eyes, then pulled off his shirt. "Mom, I've got questions about sex!"

BAMF! There she was, pulling at his pants. "If you want to satisfy a woman, you have to know...!" She was sliding her hands into his pants.

"Mom! Get out!"

 

_This is Jong Jong._

The firebender, dressed in shining foil clothes and wearing enough foundation to strain The Boulder's neck, rolled forward on the Satoway. He breezed in through the door just in time to see Azula punch Zuko and kick him away from her oatmeal.

_He's broke again, and heard that there was room at the palace. He only shows up when he needs something._

Azula shoveled the oatmeal into her mouth, then slammed the porcelain over Zuko's head. "Oh," she groaned. "You again."

"That's no way to talk to your old uncle Jong Jong!" he lilted. "Come and give your favorite relative a big old gold piece! I mean a hug."

Zuko rubbed his head. "Why are you here, Jong Jong?" he asked. "You only show up when you need something."

_Score one for the narrator._

"Oh, that's no fair," Jong Jong complained. "I came because I knew the family was in trouble. I figured I could help out, take the spare room, contribute to the plan to Save Our Firesiblings!"

"Ha," Azula deadpanned. "A ha, ha ha. Ha." She rolled her eyes higher than the expectations for the Korra premiere. "What can you possibly do to help us?"

"What about a little bit of THIS?!" Jong Jong lit up a burst of explosive flames from his left arm. Out from the other sleeve came a stream of lighter fluid. It trickled out into the air and dribbled onto Azula's face. She took it close to the eye without flinching.

_Jong Jong is a master of pyrotechnics in a world of magical fire. He hasn't had a job in 30 years._

"I'm sorry," Azula said in a tone that said "Sorry not sorry", "but the spare room is occupied."

"What?!" Jong Jong shouted. "You rented out my room!?"

"Jong Jong," Zuko said patiently. "Why are you here for our help? You're riding an invention that isn't going to be around for 70 years. Sell it for a fortune and retire already!"

Sokka stepped into the room, smelling the warm breakfast air wafting out of the kitchen. "Yum! I love the smell of breaking fourth walls in the morning!"

Azula gestured to Sokka for Jong Jong. "Meet our new tenants, Uncle. This is Sokka Wangfire."

"Delighted to make your acquiescence," Sokka said, giving the old firebender a hard shake of the hand. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

Jong Jong wrenched his hand free. "Really?" he said, flexing his injured fingers. "Really?! COME ON!"

"And my sister," Sokka said, pointing at the hall. "Katara Sapphirefire."

Jong Jong turned his neck hard enough to spin the universe 19 degrees to the right. His mouth flopped open and a long red tongue unrolled onto the floor. "HELL. OHHHHHHH. STRANGA."

_It was then that Zuko realized that his fetish for water tribe girls..._

Zuko turned from Katara along with his uncle to glare electricity. Jong Jong returned the territorial stare.

_Was hereditary._

 

_On the next, Zuzu's Crackhouse..._

_Zuko hires an assassin to keep Jong Jong away from Katara._

Sparky Sparky Boom Man walked through the dark hallways of the palace. He held up the drawing of Jong Jong, then turned towards the spare room.

Ursa stepped in from nothingness, dressed in pink lingerie. "HELL. OHHHHHHH. STRANGA," she purred.

_Sokka tries the shower peephole._

Sokka leaned foward, lining up his eye to the hole in the wall. He rubbed his hands together, then peeked into the shower.

"HELL. OHHHHHHH. STRANGA."

It was his sister. Sokka turned away, making a face. Then he shrugged and unzipped his pants.

_Ozai loses his federal case._

Ozai stepped into the jail cell, feeling self conscious as his cellmate undressed him with his eyes.

"HELL. OHHHHHHH. STRANGA."

Ozai frowned. "I've got the worst f***** lawyers."

 


End file.
